Unprecedented Attraction
by Vanilla Scented Scarves
Summary: Hermione is captured by a snatcher, Scabior, she tries determinedly to supress her growing attraction towards this rugged dark wizard, but could it become too hard? Is he just too irresistible to ignore?
1. Chapter 1

**This is a Story of Hermione and Scabior and their first meeting in the Forest of Dean, ideas are taken from many places, it tells the story of Hermione trying hard to supress her feelings for the Ragged but devilishly handsome snatcher, chapters are constantly being added! Please enjoy and Review! **

**I own nothing, this is just for my own and hopefully your entertainment, J.K Rowling is the Genius.**

###

_'That's it, I'm caught' _were Hermione's thoughts as she tripped and fell suddenly and rather painfully to the damp forest floor.

Seconds later her terrified thoughts were confirmed as the snatcher who had been pursuing her's rapid breathing was noticeably close to her delicate ear. A ruff hand clenched around her thin arm and pulled her upwards. Hermione noticed for the first time since she had fallen moments before, the piercing ache in her ankle, she couldn't have put much weight on it to help herself stand up if she'd wanted to.

The snatcher quickly gave up his attempts and changed his plan to sit his sweet prey up against the tree that towered over them just two feet away. Realising what her capturer was now trying to accomplish, she tried with all her weight to remain where she was, locking her tired body in it's current position to make it as hard as possible for the snatcher.

But it was no use, although he didn't look it, he was clearly reasonably strong and managed the task effortlessly, albeit with somewhat unnecessary roughness at the same time. Hermione sat their silently and unwillingly, and tried to make her expression unfazed and indifferent to his treatment, but tears began to trickle from nowhere stinging down her icy rose tinted cheeks.

The snatcher knelt in front of her, not bothering to tie her up or put his usual immobilising charms on her, as he knew that even if she did get away – which she wouldn't – she was now unarmed and weakened by her injury. Instead, he decided to examine her. He stared intently at her broken face and tried to place where he might have seen her before, for he was sure that he had.

Hermione, aware of his gaze tried to look anywhere but at this man she instinctly loathed. Though now the snatcher had invaded so far into her personal space, that it was impossible to see past his gauntly face. She felt his hot breath against her cheek, she was surprised that there was a rather strong hint of peppermint in it, disguising the usually overpowering scent of firewiskey.

"It's no use trying to find an escape route darlin'," he said with an air of humour as he noticed her pupils dancing and darting around her eyes, avoiding his overpowering gaze.

"I wasn't…" she said before she could stop herself, she involuntarily glanced up at him when she spoke. Then quickly looked away, and then back again, doing a strange sort of double take motion. His eyes dominated his face; they were blue/grey and framed by a mass of jet black eyelashes giving him a mysterious darkness which wasn't dissimilar to his character.

"Ahh that's better," he said as their eyes met for the first time, "Hello beautiful."

She looked at him, shocked by his unexpected words, and tone of voice, he was undoubtedly a Londoner from his deep voice and accent, it was highly alluring. He seemed perfectly at home in the forest, indicating to her that he was used to sleeping under the stars. She wanted and expected herself to feel repulsed by him, her capturer, for talking to her and sitting so close, however, the feeling didn't come, she was oddly transfixed by him.

"What's your name then?" he asked conversationally, "and don't even think about lying beautiful, I've got means that you'd never imagine to get the truth out of people."

Hermione considered him for a moment, she already had her false identity in her mind, but something told her that the snatcher wasn't lying about these 'means' he stated he possessed, and to be frank, she didn't want to find out what they were.

"Hermione Granger" she replied automatically, and instantly regretted her decision to be truthful as his face lit up at her answer, he knew he'd recognised her from somewhere; the undesirable posters which now monopolised Diagon Alley.

"Well Hermione, you seem to be in a spot o' bother with the old Ministry of Magic at the moment, did you know that sweetie?"

She just shook her head, so he continued, "Yes, see, I'm under strict orders to take you straight to the Ministry..."

Her face fell, she'd been expecting it, but all the same, hearing it out loud was confirmation, and the thought was terrifying.

"…But," he continued, emphasising the 't' sound. Her eyes widened at this tiny glimmer of hope, "I've never been one for obeying orders, and besides I think that'd be a bit of a waste, don't you Miss Granger?...for now at least" and he stroked her fair cheek with the tip of his wand.

She didn't know exactly what he thought would be a waste, she didn't like the idea of it, but remained silent so as not to disturb his unforeseen thoughts.

He paused before resuming, "I think we'll set up camp here tonight, and I'll catch up with my group in the morning, with any luck they'll have caught your ginger boyfriend and the Potter boy…" then he added carelessly,_ "I'm Scabior by the way."_


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione just stared, trying to assess this odd turn of events. She looked at him as he drew away from her and began to extract objects from his obviously magically enlarged pockets, discarding them onto the floor, until he found what he had been searching for; a tent. She watched him as he assembled it with a smart wave of his wand and began muttering enchantments and spells around them, forests clearly weren't safe even for snatchers.

It was not until now that she could watch him from afar that she began to take in his every detail and abstract appearance. From his scuffed leather laced boots to his greyed plaid skin tight trousers. He wore a long carefully damaged black leather coat which hung powerfully over a military style navy-grey jacket. His shirt was not visible at the angle Hermione sat at, but she noticed as he turned that he had a stained crimson red piece of cloth tied roughly around his left arm, like a captain's armband in Quidditch. She also noticed something for the first time that shocked her about his unlikely montage of clothes. Hanging from his neck was her own faded red scarf, though noticeably much dirtier and more worn than she remembered it. She pondered the scarf a moment, what had made him keep it? Hermione wasn't outraged by this thief, she was taken aback and silently liked what she saw, she'd clearly apparently an impact on her mysterious, enigmatic snatcher.

He was tall and slender, narrow but clearly muscular under his layers of clothes that gave him a bohemian look, more suiting of a pirate than a wizard. His hair was a matted mane of dark brown with an unusual, but eccentrically suiting red streak in it. It was drawn back hastily and tied with another piece of red cloth at the base of his neck. Sections of his dishevelled hair had fallen out of place in his exercise and hung over his thin face, framing his distinct jaw line and high cheek bones perfectly. His chin and nose were slightly pointed but again suited his face. Scabior's full lips were surrounded by gentle dark stubble which stretched down his neck. She had already come to the decision that he was intelligent and clearly experienced with his work, he walked with an endearing and proud strut which led her to believe that he was the leader of his group, this made the prospect of him all the more enchanting and attractive.

Scabior looked up from the map he must have been examining and noticed her staring at him, "you alright love? You seem a bit distant, dazed." He waited for an answer, but didn't receive one. He then smirked to himself as he balanced on his haunches, shook his head, and turned back to the map.

Realising what she'd been caught doing she shot her eyes to look at her fingers which had been ripping apart a leaf without her knowledge. Hermione sat there, slightly overcome and bemused, she couldn't believe herself, had she just been caught admiring this evil, loathsome creature? The man who has taken her prisoner and was trying to snatch her best friends in the same way to hand them over to the darkest wizard of all time?

No. _'She had simply been looking at Scabior and taking in her surroundings'_, that's what she tried to convince herself that she was doing, but her mind and eyes kept wandering to the dark handsome stranger who sat feet away from her.


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione tried to distract herself by thinking of an escape plan, a method to ditch the snatcher, take her wand and run for it, however this was easier said than done. She thought harder, trying to block him from her mind.

Scabior folded up his map and tucked it back into his coat pocket, then took out his wand and conjured a fire with one swift and fluent wave. He sat their infront of it and stared into it's golden red flames in deep thought. His face was lit up in a luscious orange glow for several minutes, until he remembered he wasn't alone.

"Where's my manners eh? You cold love?" he asked with the tiniest hint of concern.

Hermione didn't answer, she was cold, but couldn't trust herself to look at him again, especially after her stomach had made a little lurch when he'd called her 'love', just as it had every time he had called her 'beautiful' before.

"Now c'mon Miss Granger, It's rude not to answer someone, common courtesy an' all."

She ignored him, wishing him to be quiet so she could extinguish her rational thoughts.

"Look, I know you don't like me very much at the moment, but that'll change, just you wait and see, it always does." He winked and she blushed.

"I'm fine" she replied at last.

"Like 'ell you are," he said as he stood up and walked over to her - Hermione's breath caught - holding out his hand, which she took automatically and without hesitation. He slid his other arm around her waist for support and walked her over to the fire and sat her gently onto the hard ground.

He began to slowly withdraw his hand from her small waist, her breathing increased as she once again felt and smelt his warm breath as it tickled the back of her neck. She heard him inhale deeply as his tangled curls brushed against her face, then he whispered in her ear, "cheer up lovely, you don't know how long we'll be together for" with that he brushed her hair to one side of her neck and kissed her nape, lingering for a moment before walking into the tent.

**Please Review! **


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione sat their bewildered, her thoughts no longer made sense; she wasn't entirely sure what Scabior's kiss had meant, if anything, to her or to him. But what she did know, is that she wanted him to do it again, and soon. She wanted to feel him next to her, she wanted him to touch her and caress her cheek like he had done once before. She wanted him to call her beautiful and smile his crooked charming smirk.

Seconds ticked by, rapidly turning into minutes…

Her thoughts raced around her head, Could she? Would she? Should she? Hermione didn't know. The bitter night air was becoming noticeably colder, it was as though Scabior had taken the warmth away from the fire when he'd left her alone. Soon she'd have no choice but to enter the tent, the anticipation bubbling up inside her was like a fresh brew of polyjuice potion; far too much to handle and about to overflow. She wanted to go inside, a confident, purposeful and focused woman, but somehow she knew, that however hard she tried, he'd still have the same impact on her as he had done all afternoon and that she'd fall into the uncontrollable, illogical catastrophe that she so hated in herself. She hated that he had that effect on her, it was so wrong; she was Hermione Granger, a good, strong, intelligent witch that loved Ronald Weasley. and yet all that, all her values and past seemed to vanish because she loved Scabior's effect on her at the same time, and yearned to feel his blue/grey gaze again.

Without further ado, before she changed her mind again, and before it became even colder, she stood up shakily, and walked slowly, with a slight limp from her injured ankle, over to the opening of the tent. Hermione swiftly became aware that her palms had begun to sweat with nervousness and her stomach was doing somersaults. She hastily scrubbed her hands on her jeans and fluffed up her already outrageously messy hair, and walked inside.

Before she could place it's location, a gruff voice spoke out, "You took your time."

Then Hermione found it's source, leaning back on a rickety wooden chair with his feet balanced on a stack of precarious looking books which lay on a crooked wooden table. He smirked her favourite smirk and twiddled his thumbs thoughtlessly, before rocking forward with a insignificant crash. She noticed that although they still sat on his feet, that he had undone the laces on his boots and also he'd taken off his leather coat, which hung, she noticed, from a purposefully placed coat stand behind him. His single leather, fingerless glove remained in place and so did her scarf, along with two studded leather belts draped over his plaid trousers.

"Well don't just stand there lovely, you're making me nervous, have a seat will you?" he grinned.

Hermione tried to smile and looked around, searching for another chair...

At that moment, he slapped himself on the forehead and grunted to himself in a comical fashion, withdrew his wand from a hidden pocket of his military jacket, gave it a swift, dramatic circular wave and stood up in time to catch a chair that popped out of nothing. Hermione tried to hide her amusement at his theatrical display, and walked over to the chair. He waited to push it forward as she sat down and then reoccupied the seat opposite her again. Scabior waved his wand again and the books flew off the table and compiled themselves in a rather untidy pile in one corner of the tent.

"So," he began, "I reckon right about now you're wondering what's gonna happen next? And what my 'plans'," he made a quotation gesture as he said it, "are for you, and much more importantly, _me_" he said with little more than a hint of sarcasm. He paused, "Am I right?"

"Well, yes I suppose…"

"Aha! You see Miss Granger, I'm very rarely wrong" Scabior stated, "Well, the answer to that question is entirely up to you…I'm bored of making decisions, I reckon this'll make it more interesting don't cha think?"

Hermione had no clue what Scabior was talking about, and was thinking for the first time that he wasn't quite all there in the head.

"Well?" he asked, the sexual tension remained ubiquitous.

"Well what? You've just fed me a load of crap that doesn't even begin to make sense, and then you expect me to answer your 'none question'? What I really want to know is why you haven't handed me in yet? Whether my friends are safe or whether your hideous friends have snatched them too? Whether you really are a nice guy or whether you're a creepy, criminal, murderous snatcher? Whether you're going to hand me over to the Ministry of Magic to be sent to Azkaban or more likely, you know who? Whether you're being nice to me so I won't try to escape, or whether you actually care? What that kiss meant outside…and yes, what will happen now?" She finished rather out of breath after her little rant, and none the wiser to how he would react after she had talked to him in that blunt and bitter manner.

He sat staring at her, obviously slightly stunned at her sudden and highly unexpected outburst, and hopefully, Hermione thought, lost for words.

He took a lung full of air and exhaled slowly, building up the tension, then started, " I haven't handed you into the Ministry _yet_ because I haven't actually decided whether I'm going to or not, I don't know whether your ginger boyfriend or Potter have been caught or not, and believe me, I'd like to know just as much as you. I can't judge whether I'm a '_creepy, criminal snatcher'_ or not, that's for you to decide," her words stung her as he said them back, she wished she hadn't said them, he continued without stopping for breath. "But I've never murdered anyone, nor do I intend to, I'm not in direct league with you know who, and I don't completely agree with his rule, so I wouldn't hand you over to that lot. I know that you can't escape, you're powerless without a wand and quite frankly you don't have the desire or nerve to try it anyway. And I'm beginning to think that kiss was a mistake…"

There was silence as the pair stared intently into each other's eyes, trying endlessly again to figure each other out, to understand.

"You're not going to hand me over?"

"Not just now…like I said, it'd be a waste of a pretty face and a clever witch"

"You're not in league with you know who?"

"That's what I said, I like my freedom, and like I said, I don't like his beliefs"

"So why are you a snatcher then?"

"Money," he said without hesitation, as though he'd answered the question many times before. He hadn't spoken like this before, he was being serious, and sticking to the point, clearly not willing to give in depth answers.

There was another pause, a horrible silence, Hermione was sure she could hear her heart beat. She looked down, avoiding his eyes, she was embarrassed but couldn't rest without knowing the final answer.

"and the _kiss_….the _kiss _was a mistake?" she asked the floor with a saddened tone, slightly more audible than a whisper.

He breathed out in a sigh, her heart sank, her fantasy bubble popped. Her face fell, her eyes filled up, but thankfully her hair hid it.

"You tell me," he said, and tucked his forefinger under her chin and pulled it upwards, she looked at him, his face was inches away from hers, she hadn't even heard or felt him move. He stared into her soul, she beamed and he returned the smile. Then she lunged at him and began to kiss him.

Her movement had knocked him off balance as the impact made his chair skirt away from him, he stood up in time and took her with him. Scabior moved his left hand to her face and then through her hair, stroking through it frantically as his tongue mimicked the motion inside Hermione's mouth. He gripped her thick hair as it tangled around his fingers and moved his right hand to her hip and slid it until he embraced her narrow back, pressing her body to his own. Hermione held his face between her hands, never wanting to pull away or let go, he was kissing her like she'd never been kissed before, in a way she never knew existed. He tasted of intoxicating firewhiskey and mint, just like he smelt, it was so appealing. He stroked her spine and held her close, his lips moving rhythmically over her own.

She'd never felt so alive or eager to do anything in her life, they didn't waste a moment, barely pausing for intake of air. She couldn't pull away, she felt like someone had cast a spell on her and Scabior, like the world had stopped and paused whilst two people joined together. When opposite forces called an irrational, unforeseen and astonishing truce. They both loved the idea, the thrill of it; when good collided and bound to evil, when Gryffindor merged with Slytherin. Opposites attracting in a way that in the real world they never could, Hermione knew she couldn't have a relationship with Scabior, it was impossible, even though he wasn't in league with Voldemort, he still wasn't on the right side, but that idea wasn't even in her head at the moment, all she could think about was Scabior, and how she wanted him now. Her heart was pounding with relish and excitement as she began panting and gasping for air as he moved his head slightly away from hers, he used to the tip of his soft, wet tongue to lick her bottom lip before he began kissing down her neck.

**Thank You for the Great Reviews so far!**

**Please Review!**


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione didn't know how to react to this new experience; she hated herself for not wanting him to stop, for wanting more and more. She fought against herself unsuccessfully before she hastily untied her scarf from his neck and pulled it off, he continued to kiss her all the time, as her hands searched frantically for the fastenings on his jacket, she undid the first, second and the third before he grabbed her hands and pulled away from her mouth.

"Don't." Scabior said, rather unexpectedly.

Hermione did as he wished; her arms went limp in his hands as she looked up into his smoky eyes, confused.

"You don't want this" he breathed with a small sigh.

"How do you know what I want? You barely even know me" She snapped back, always annoyed when people made assumptions, even Scabior.

He hesitated, "That's exactly the point, I don't know you"

Hermione was perplexed, startled. "Does that really matter? I thought this was what you wanted too…"

"It was, just….not like this. I know you'll regret it, and I don't want to be the person you regret, anyway, you've got ginger, what do you need me for?" he gave a half smile.

"Firstly, Ron isn't my boyfriend, and secondly, the only thing I'm regretting at the moment is wasting this time now when we could be together."

Scabior looked into Hermione's chocolate eyes and knew she was being truthful, he did want her, more than anything at the moment, he just wanted her so badly that he didn't want to hurt her. This was a new experience for Scabior too, since when had he ever felt like this? Usually he only cared for himself. Hermione took a minute step closer to him again, Scabior breathed in her luscious, luxurious sent of vanilla. It made him hunger and yearn for more.

He couldn't resist himself, he just had to…

A second passed before he was kissing her again, more desperate and savagely before. It made her desire him more and more. This time it was Scabior who slid his hands from her waist up to her blouse and began undoing the buttons. She flung her arms out and let her shirt drop to the floor, he threw his jacket off and ripped his shirt off over his head and then opened his belt, and pulled off his plaid pants.

Hermione was too excited, taking off the remainder of her clothes and throwing them wildly across the room. She was suddenly too hot and couldn't bare to have her clothes on any longer. Scabior grabbed his wand and waved it, dimming the lamps in the tent as they walked, still kissing and engulfed by each other towards the bed at the side of the tent. Any self consciousness that she'd normally feel was extinguished in the moment as she dragged off Scabior's boxers.

There was a pause as they began to lay down and Scabior and Hermione stared into each other's eyes, into each other's minds and hearts. Then Hermione felt a hardened form against her thigh, she could feel herself and began breathing deeply, trying to calm down. Scabior began kissing her collar bone. Her heart was beating faster and she was sure that he would hear it.

Then they were one person, united in a passionate bond.

**The End**

**Thank you for the reviews! **

*Modified ending, lame but I'm only human. Also, please not that I honestly didn't review my own story, my friend did whilst I was still logged into my account, and I can't delete it.


End file.
